


The Boy

by blondsak



Series: Seven Sleepless Nights: An Iron Dad Horror Collection [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Horror, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak
Summary: Tony pulls over, rolling down his window just a few inches, only for his eyebrows to raise as the figure pulls off its mask.It’s just a boy, he realizes. He doesn’t look more than 14 or 15, and he’s wearing some over-the-top superhero costume with a spider design on its chest. But that’s not what Tony focuses on– no, what he focuses on is the way the kid is holding an arm protectively over his stomach.“Hi– uh, could I get a ride p-please?”





	The Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Some (not all) of the stories in this collection contain MCD. Read at your own risk <3

Tony’s on his way back from a late night meeting when he sees a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. It’s 3am, and he’d figured by now most everyone who’d been living it up for Halloween would be at home, passed out in bed. Especially now that it’s storming out, the wind brushing up against his car with so much force there’s a whistle of air coming through the windows. 

Apparently not, he thinks as he sees a figure decked out in some ridiculous red and blue get-up pop out of a random alley and flag him down. Tony pulls over, rolling down his window just a few inches, only for his eyebrows to raise as the figure pulls off its mask.

It’s just a boy, he realizes. He doesn’t look more than 14 or 15, and he’s wearing some over-the-top superhero costume with a spider design on its chest. But that’s not what Tony focuses on– no, what he focuses on is the way the kid is holding an arm protectively over his stomach. 

“Hi– uh, could I get a ride p-please?”

Tony’s eyes flicker up to the kid’s face again. Big brown eyes hidden behind drenched wispy curls greet him, and Tony feels a sudden surge of protectiveness run through him which only amplifies when the boy shivers, clearly cold. His face is so pale it’s almost translucent. Tony swallows down another sharp pang of worry.

Tony nods, leaning over and unlocking the passenger side door.

“Sure you don’t need a hospital, kid?” Tony asks carefully as the boy clambers in, still holding an arm over his abdomen and resting his head against the sleek leather seat. “You’re not looking too good.”

“I’ll be okay,” the kid replies, voice low. “‘S probably not as bad as it looks. M-my– my dad will patch me up when I get home.”

Tony nods slowly, still feeling uncertain as he pulls away from the curb. It’s really pouring now, and he turns the windshield wipers up a notch, their small squeaks cutting into the loud patter of rain on the car’s roof.

“Speaking of, where is home, kid?” Tony motions to the main console, his AI helpfully pulling up the GPS input screen. “Here, put in your address.”

Tony goes back to watching the road as the kid plugs in his address, only looking back down again when his AI begins directing him. He tries to think of something to fill the silence.

“Sure is weird, not having that familiar Manhattan skyline anymore.”

“I miss the tower.”

Tony doesn’t miss that the teen uses the singular, but chooses not to comment on it. The kid really does look awful. “I know it’s Halloween and all, but that is quite the detailed get-up you got on.”

The boy looks out the window, before softly replying, “My dad helped me make it.”

Tony smirks. “I can’t wait to make my kid a Halloween costume. I’m gonna go all out– they’ll probably hate it.”

The teen gives a real laugh at that, looking over at Tony with a fond smile. The sight of it has Tony smiling just as fondly back, before he clears his throat, turning back to the road._ Something about this kid…_

As they pull onto the Queensboro Bridge, he glances again over at the teen. The boy is grimacing, eyes closed as he holds both hands tight against his far side. 

“So, uh– what happened?”

The teen’s eyes slit open, looking over at Tony. “J-just some s-stupid m-muggers.”

Shit, the kid is _freezing_. Tony turns the heat on full-blast.

“And they wanted what, your Halloween candy?”

The kid huffs out a half-hearted chuckle, looking down at where his mask sits in his lap. “Nah, they were threatening some p-poor drunk lady wearing a _Game of Thrones_ c-c-costume.”

Tony has no idea what_ Game of Thrones_ is, but he lets it slide. “And you thought you’d go out and play Arachna-Boy– or is it Spider-Child, or–”

“Spider-_Man_.”

“Ah,” Tony says lightly. “Spider-_Man_. I see.”

“I’m a l-lot s-stronger than I look.”

The boy looks back down at his side then, and when he turns back to Tony there’s a flicker of fear in his eyes that has Tony’s nascent Dad Sense going nuts.

“You sure you’re alright?”

The boy nods– too quickly, Tony thinks. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. You said you had a k-kid?”

Tony thinks about pressing the issue, but lets that go too. “Yep, not even three months old. My wife and I, we’ve been out in California– needed to get away after… well, after what happened. But we’re planning to move back to New York soon, raise our family here. I’m just out here on business for now.”

“Th-that’s really great, Mister Stark.”

Tony gives the kid a teasing look. “Ah, so you do know who I am, then. I was wondering. I promise not all the rumors are true about me– just most of them.”

The teen ignores the joke, instead replying with a worshipful sincerity Tony has rarely if ever heard directed his way before. “Of course I do. You’re my h-hero.”

Tony grimaces inwardly. “Don’t say that, kid. I’m nobody worth looking up to.”

“W-well, it’s true. My whole life all I w-wanted was to be just like y-you.”

Tony doesn’t say anything to that, and the two ride in silence as they continue into Manhattan, turning down the familiar streets.

According to the GPS they’re only three minutes or so away from the kid’s home when Tony glances over again. The kid looks asleep, but something in Tony tells him that’s not a good thing. He’s wheezing too, as though every breath is painful.

They turn onto Park Avenue, and Tony is thankful they’re almost at the kid’s place– Tony isn’t even close to qualified to watch over someone else’s hurt child. 

“Hey kid,” he calls out, and the boy startles a bit, sitting up. “I never got your name.”

“It’s P-peter.”

“Well whaddaya know– that’s my son’s name too,” Tony says, smiling despite his growing concern for the teen’s well-being. “What are the chances?”

Peter gives him a 1000-watt grin at that, the sight warming Tony from the inside out. They stare at each other, entranced for a few moments before Peter’s expression morphs into one of agony and he lets out a painful moan, and with it a deep cough that has blood pouring out the side of his mouth. Tony immediately hits the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road and unbuckling his seat belt.

The kid looks impossibly paler now, and this time Tony doesn’t hesitate to lean over and lift the boy’s arms from his side. The sight that greets him freezes the blood in his veins.

“Oh my god,” Tony breathes out as he looks down at the gaping hole in the kid’s stomach. It’s bleeding profusely, dark red liquid having already covered the entire far side of the passenger seat– pooling beneath where the kid sits and dripping onto the car’s floor. 

Tony looks back up in horror at Peter then, who just gives him a sad, knowing smile. He coughs as yet another trail of viscous blood leaks from the corner of his mouth, glistening in the moonlight. 

Tony doesn’t know where the desire comes from but suddenly he just _knows_ he needs to hold the kid. He leans even farther over the middle console, looping one arm around the boy’s neck and guiding his head to rest on Tony’s shoulder as with the other arm he presses hard against the kid’s side.

Even as the boy groans out in pain, he laughs quietly, sounding oddly content. “Th-this is n-nice. I-I miss th-this.”

The kid’s voice is barely audible when he continues, “I only get one d-day a year to t-try to see you but you were so s-sad last year, you w-wouldn’t even look at me… I thought maybe it would s-scare you less if I w-went back instead, to b-before I died. B-but what I wanted to s-say is…”

Peter trails off and Tony pulls back just in time to see his gaze go distant. Desperate, Tony shakes the kid by the shoulders. “Kid? _Peter?”_

“I-I’m sorry I left you, Dad and I… l-love…” Peter trails off again but this time his eyes close as he goes completely slack, a final puff of air exiting his lungs before he goes still.

“Shit!” Tony cries, lunging out of the car and racing around to the other side. He doesn’t have any sort of plan besides trying to replicate the CPR motions he’s only ever seen on ER, but that doesn’t change what he knows beyond a doubt: he cannot - will not - allow this boy to die. 

_Stay with me, kid._

But when Tony flings open the passenger door, nobody’s there. No blood, no mask– no evidence there had ever been a dying boy there at all. Tony looks down at his hands and sure enough, they are clean of blood as well.

Tony whirls around, looking every which way– but the kid is gone. Shaking his head, he goes back to the driver’s side and gets in, turning the key. 

“JARVIS, did you catch where he went?”

“Catch where who went, sir?”

“The boy! Peter!”

There’s a pause, JARVIS sounding almost unsure when he responds. “Young Master Peter is not here, sir. He is presently at the Malibu house with Mrs. Stark, who is awake and nursing him. Would you like me to place a call now to reach them?”

Tony thinks for a moment. “No, no. Just uh, let’s see where the kid was going. It was probably just a– a prank or something, but I want to make sure he’s alright.”

He pulls back into traffic and continues down Park Avenue for another three blocks.

“We have arrived at your destination, sir.”

Tony looks out the window at the construction site, gaping for a few moments before turning back to the GPS screen and double-checking the address. 200 Park Avenue, it reads– the sight of the future Stark Tower. 

“But, JARV, this can’t be right! The kid said…”

“That is indeed the address that was entered, sir.”

Tony continues to stare out the window at the half-finished tower, before rolling his eyes. “Damn holiday– brings out all the little punks who want to mess with people. God, I hate Halloween.”

But even as he says it, something in the back of his head is screaming that this wasn’t a prank at all.

_Please be alright, Peter._

He lets out a yawn then. “JARV, just how late is it?”

“It is 3:24 AM on the first of November, 2001, sir.”

“Alright, let’s get back to the townhouse. I got a 9am I can’t miss or Obie will have my head.”

Two days later Tony steps into his home in Malibu only to be greeted lovingly by his wife, who hands him a little, sleeping bundle. He smiles fondly down at his son before gently pressing a finger against the tiny mole on his chin, only for a vision of the other Peter to fill his mind– the other Peter who’d _also_ had a mole in the same exact spot.

Tony freezes for a few moments, eyes wide, before shaking his head and muttering, “You’re being ridiculous, Stark.”

By the time little Peter wakes up a half hour later, Tony has forgotten all about the bleeding, sad-eyed boy he’d met in Queens on that dark, rainy night.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Or come visit me on [tumblr](https://blondsak.tumblr.com/) if you want to scream at me directly!
> 
> Finally, make sure to subscribe to the series for more iron dad horror stories <3 <3 <3


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